


Useless

by Davechicken



Series: Kylux - Fluff & Angst [64]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-30 07:06:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8523367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: Kylo sees more than he bargained for.





	

It’s bad enough that he’s failed. Kylo’s life’s work – his whole reason for being – rests on the elimination of the Jedi, and the completion of his training. He has no concept of an ‘after’. (And, if he’s brutally honest, he doubts the Leader has a concept of ‘after’ for him.) He ends the Jedi. He completes his training. ??? Become one with the Dark Side of the Force ???

It’s what he lives and breathes for. The completion of a motion set into spinning decades before he was born. The final end of the Jedi, and the extinction of an order bloated on self-righteous lunacy. The end of their lies and cruelties. The true Force being known, and unadulterated. Peace – in chaos. That glorious place where Light and Dark ceased to exist as discrete, but as both sides of one coin. The Dark that only existed where the Light did not reach, and the Light that only existed when there was a Darkness to chase away.

And of course, the idiotic General has no comprehension. He’s never understood the Force. No, it’s worse than a failure to understand, it’s his sneering contempt of it. Kylo understands the envy of the Forceless (he’d felt it from his earliest days from friends, from _family_ ), but the loathing Hux feels is something else entirely. His jealousy runs so deeply that he’d probably throw the whole of the Force under the blaster-fire with the Republic if he could get away with it. 

He sees Kylo’s failures, and his lips curl, and his nostrils twitch, and he rolls around in his sty of muck, celebrating. Crooning Kylo’s defeat like a love-song, and he just can’t take it any more.

It _means something_. It means _everything_. He already hates himself more thoroughly than anyone – with perhaps the exception of his no-longer-‘related’ mother – ever could. He needs this, and his inability to complete the mission makes him teeter on the edge of not coping with life at all, and having Hux’s bitter lips twist like he’s sucked the True Form of Citrus around more put-downs…

The Knight can’t take any more criticism from outside himself. He can’t keep his own sense of self going under such a venomous attack on his whole being, his whole self. He knows he’s a disappointment to everyone (first his father, then his mother, then his uncle, now his Master), and he can’t defend what he doesn’t believe is worth defending. 

When you can’t defend, you attack.

Kylo stops answering. He stops answering, and he vibrates the air between them. He finds the threads of the Force – bright, alive, loud and beautiful – and follows them into the man’s mind.

“Shut up,” he says, in a voice that is both chthonic and childish. “Shut. **Up**.”

But the eyes that widen and focus through time are not the eyes he expected to meet.

***

 _Useless_. The word echoes from the world outside – in Hux’s acerbic tone – into here. But Kylo feels like he’s the one who’s said them, even though he isn’t ‘him’. He looks down at a boy infinitely smaller than he is, and he _is_ a boy.

Straggly. Skinny. Barely-fed. All shock-red hair that is ruined from something, his small lips split and bloodied. He’s fighting to keep both eyes open, when one is swelling to shut. 

Kylo remembers being that boy, too, minus the hair. Remembers making boys _look_ like that, shortly after. 

The boy-who-was-Hux bristles and fights to pull attention back to himself, even though Kylo knows the man who deemed him useless is looking away. The focus shifts slightly, and he sees the adults talking.

_He’s your son._

_That thing?_

_He’s. Your. Son._

_He won’t last five minutes in training. It’s a wonder he’s even still alive._

Kylo feels the anguish in clenched small fists. The desperate need to be known, the scrappy fight in him despite everyone saying he’d never amount to nothing. He sees the boy scratching for his position, the aching gap where self-love should be.

He knows that, too.

 _You have to take him. He won’t survive_ here _, either._

_Maybe kinder to let him sink than keep throwing him floats._

The boy wants to cry, but he knows he shouldn’t. He can taste the blood on his lips, and he runs his tongue over the gash to open the wound again. To give himself more pain. To help him focus.

Kylo’s tongue is over his own, knowing how pain can help. Knowing how the insult can give you strength, and can jolt you out of your rut. He feels the rising tide of fear like a swarm of TIEs around his head, and it isn’t his. 

Blue eyes meet his own.

“What are you afraid of?”

The eyes are confused, the memory violated. He feels revulsion, now, revulsion, self-loathing, shame that is almost tangible… the boy knows he’s being spied upon, and his mind starts to fight back against this intrusion. 

“Get out of my head!”

Kylo sinks his claws in, fighting back. He wants to understand this, because Hux’s mind came here for a reason when he lashed into it. This is linked to their current fight, this is something that means something to Hux. The word echoes again, an adult’s voice: _useless_. The weapon Hux uses on him. The term he throws out so openly.

He wants to ask a question, but the answer is there, anyway. This is nothing to do with the Force, but everything to do with failure. Hux equates Kylo’s own failure with this, and he doesn’t understand _that_ bit. It’s not Hux’s inability to complete the task, but Kylo’s. Their goals are only barely paralleled because of a joint Master, not because they’re shared. 

Why does Kylo’s weakness make him feel like this?

***

The connection breaks, and Kylo sees Hux backed against the bulkhead. His gloved hands are out to his sides, fingers splayed like spiderwebs for support. He’s slumped slightly under the interrogation, his ramrod back curved, his composure gone in ways he’s never seen before.

Kylo has seen Hux angry. Kylo has seen Hux _livid_. He’s seen him in the throes of manic, rabid loathing and puritanical disgust. He’s never seen him _rattled_ like this.

“Get the _hell out_ ,” Hux snarls, his accent slipping from the normally perfect tones he expels through his nose.

“Hux…”

“Don’t you _dare_ go into my mind again. Don’t you _dare_.”

Kylo contemplates wiping the memory from Hux, but something in him says no.

No one else has seen, which is some small mercy.

Confused, he leaves.

***

It’s just the word. Right? The word sparked the memory, when Kylo went looking for something to shut the man up. He’d been probing to get back control, to regain the highground in their interactions.

(Regain. As if he’d ever had it.)

He’d just wanted Hux to _respect_ what the Force meant, and to stop his stream of abuse against his abilities both Force and not. He’d… he’d wanted _leverage_ , but also to intimidate him, perhaps? Kylo is no longer sure, but he can’t shake the image of the boy with the bloodied lips and messed-up hair. He’s the polar opposite of what Hux is now. Even though the boy grew up to be slender, he’d clearly evolved to _use_ his gifts, not be hindered by them.

Kylo doesn’t know for certain, but he’d stake a lot of credits on Hux being absolutely lethal with a weapon. And _without_. He has that kind of ‘I’ll claw your eyes out with my toenails if I have to’ air to him. Kylo would think twice about getting into a brawl if he didn’t have several pounds _and_ the Force on him. 

The whole thing was supposed to cow him into submission, but instead… well. It’s sort of worked. 

Hux is no longer on his case, but that’s because they’ve steadfastly refused to be anywhere near one another since. Hux likely will never forgive him for the rest of his life for invading his mind, and Kylo… doesn’t… want to see the look of disgust and hatred on his face.

Even though he should be fine with it. It’s not like being hated is so unusual to him. It’s been his life for years, now, and really it’d be unusual to not be hated. So his discomfort around that…

They can’t stay away from one another forever. Not really. Kylo wonders if he can get himself moved to another Star Destroyer. There’s plenty, and he doesn’t _need_ to be on the _Finalizer_. There’s no…

“No,” says the Leader.

“But Master—“

“You will do as I bid, Kylo Ren.”

The message cuts. He stands alone, and feels for where Hux is so he can continue to avoid him.

***

Eventually, he feels the furious wave bearing down on him, and no matter where he goes, it hones in on him like a locked-on missile. Even hiding in the Knights of Ren’s dojo does no good, and he’s made the double mistake of a) assuming Hux would recognise the sanctity of the dojo that didn’t belong to him and b) taking off his mask to train.

He’s bare-faced, and Hux is in the doorway.

“This is ridiculous,” Hux says.

Kylo agrees wholeheartedly. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“I’m the General, this is my ship.”

“This is Force-matters.”

“This is _my ship_.”

“The Force is outside of your—“

“Would you stop bleating about your precious Force for _one minute_ and listen to me?”

Kylo grabs his waterbottle, drinking heavily from it to avoid needing to talk.

“Fine… Ren, we have to work together, for the greater good of the First Order. I understand you think you’re a law unto yourself, but I was trying to follow the Leader’s command, and I’d appreciate if you didn’t torture me for it.”

“That wasn’t torture.”

Hux winces. He clearly thought it was, which goes to show he either doesn’t understand Kylo, or Kylo doesn’t understand what Hux felt. Maybe both. The Knight swirls the water around in the bottle of his bottle, listening to the cyclone sounds. 

“Regardless. I was attempting to motivate you to succeed, whatever your ‘Force’ obligations were.”

“You were ‘motivating’ me? You were busy telling me I was the most useless thing ever born, Hux.”

Is that how he thinks you urge someone to excel, to succeed? Bash them down so they feel two inches tall? Seriously, that’s fucked up. 

“It works,” Hux says, defensively. 

“No, it doesn’t.”

 _Yes, it does_. The words aren’t aloud, but somehow Kylo hears them all the same. _Look at me. **Look at me. Look. AT. Me.**_

“I was frustrated, but you need to – you need discipline.”

“You don’t understand the Force, Hux.”

“No, but I understand _people_. Failure. I understand… missions…”

Failure. Useless. The words echo again, and Kylo’s itching to slip back into his mind, to probe at the edges he can see. “You think you could do things better than me?”

He watches lips twitch nervously, stuck somewhere between ‘of course’ and ‘never’. Both opinions at once, and Hux fights himself to present the more positive. He doesn’t nod, but he doesn’t shake his head, either.

Hux was… trying to help? Was he, or is this just some bullshit attempt to move on? And even if it is some bullshit attempt at that… dare he ignore the offer of peace? 

Is it genuine? Even if poorly worded? An offer of his experience… Kylo isn’t sure he c—

He could help. He knows that, and it’s his pride rejecting it. It’s pride and a desperate need to be self-sufficient that’s kept him apart from everyone else for so long. He only has the Leader, and no one else to confide in. 

“…I would…” Say it. Say it. Grow up and act like a man. “I would… appreciate that.”

Hux looks as startled as Kylo feels, and their eyes meet. Hux’s gaze scans his face, looking for ridicule or mockery. Looking for the sarcasm he’d tried so very hard to keep out of his tone, because it would creep in when he didn’t mean it, most days. 

“I—I see.”

“You… have experience and perspective I don’t,” Kylo ventures. “But you should also not discount the power of the Force.”

There’s a wince, but then Hux’s jaw works. “Do you think it would benefit my operational measures?”

“It wouldn’t hurt them,” Kylo replies. “If you’d be open to considering my counsel. As… a supplement.” 

Owlish eyes, and then a mute nod. Hux turns on his heel, and leaves.

That… was mostly civil. Wonders never cease.

***

Kylo starts to hear dreams he is sure are not his own. He feels pain, but it’s lower, like his chest isn’t in the right place. In another colour, like it’s filtered at a different frequency. He’s had nightmares for years, some prophetic and some just plain hideous. Memories, possibilities, fears. 

He’s never extensively had someone else’s intrude into his mind like this before. 

It’s a mess. There’s vibrant images, followed by static-snow gaps. Pain, and then drilled mantras. It’s maddening, and he wonders how Hux _functions_ like this. (Probably like he does. With difficulty. With rules. With valves and stoppers.)

It’s distressing in the extreme, and Kylo can’t take it any more.

***

“You said you would listen to the Force,” Kylo says, when Hux agrees to meet him with cordial levelness. 

“Yes. What is it?”

Their working partnership has been going much smoother since their ‘discussion’ in the dojo, but this is the first time Kylo’s been the one to offer assistance.

“You… are…” How do you explain this? “I can hear. Things.”

“Like? Sedition? Rumours?”

“Thoughts.”

“ _Seditious_ thoughts?”

“Your thoughts.”

Hux’s face drains, and his eyes flicker up and to the right for just a moment, as if he’s examining the memories stored inside. “I thought we agreed you would never do that again.”

“And I haven’t. But either I’m… in tune with you, or you’re just being _loud_ , but I can… hear things.”

“Can you stop?”

“It’s at night. I’m not doing it myself, so… no. But I thought I could help… you. So it isn’t a problem.”

“You’re blaming me for your inability to keep out of my head?” Hux sounds understandably pissed.

“No, I’m offering to help… with what’s making the emotion, the… pain.”

“Stop being ridiculous, Ren.”

“I’m not,” he pushes. “You’re in pain, and maybe I can help. You’d feel better, and it would disrupt you less.”

“ _I am not disrupted, I am very efficient_.”

“You could be _more_ efficient,” Kylo wheedles. 

There is a long, long moment of silence.

“This is the Force equivalent of ‘turn down the music’, isn’t it? I’m upsetting your beauty sleep.”

Kylo pinches his nose. “If it helps you to think of it like that, but really… I think it’s something you need, and maybe I could help you find it. I’m doing it because… I don’t… think… I don’t think you deserve the pain, but if you can’t accept that motivation, then please: pretend it’s for work.”

More, more silence.

“ _Why_? You broke _into_ my mind. You _did_ this.”

“And…” I’m sorry. “I want to undo it.”

Hux won’t accept that answer. He walks out, leaving Kylo confused.

***

“I’ll not be mocked,” Hux hisses, when Kylo follows him, later that day.

“I’m not,” Kylo insists.

“Stay the _hell_ out of my head. It’s _private_. It’s nothing to do with you.”

“It became something to do with me when I saw it.”

Hux looks ready to rip him limb from limb. “I _get_ it, you’re _more powerful_. But let me tell you, I didn’t have half your opportunities—“

“And look how far you’ve come,” Kylo concludes, putting his mask down on the table.

“Shut up.”

“I meant that sincerely.”

He watches Hux wince, and he wonders if it’s because he’s never felt adequate, or because it’s _him_ saying this. He watches the tiny micro-expressions, and he’s _itching_ to…

“Hux. You’ve helped me. Let me help _you_.”

“ _Get out_.”

For the love of… Kylo said he wouldn’t. Sometimes you have to break rules, and that’s a lesson Hux needs to learn. He grabs hold of the man’s face on one hand, and pushes back inside.

***

“ _I told you not to do this,”_ Hux snaps at him, in this slightly-altered world.

“I know. But you need it.”

“I don’t need—“

He turns Hux’s face, towards a memory that isn’t his. It’s Kylo’s, and he lets him see his first impressions of the young officer with flame-red hair.

“What is this?”

“How I saw you.”

Kylo lets go of his face, and allows Hux to witness the younger Kylo’s apprehension. The flicker of intimidation he’d felt, in the face of someone so sure and strong. The need to impress him he’d tried so hard to subdue. The envy of his purpose, of his… perceived advantages.

It’s painful to let Hux see this, but he wants to, now.

“You’re lying,” Hux whispers, as if afraid to shatter the memory.

“No. I genuinely felt like that.”

“But _you_ were the one with the advantages.”

“So you thought,” he points out. “We were both mistaken, it seems.”

Kylo watches as Hux walks, entranced, over to the slightly smaller Kylo. Barely more than a boy, masked and shrouded. Hux, not a General yet, but on the way. He sees Hux peer at the frozen point in time, the slow breathing of the moment extended indefinitely. 

“Why are you… why do you want to help me, Ren?”

“Because you’re hurting, and I want it to stop.”

“ _Why_?”

“I have no real ulterior motivation,” Kylo shrugs. “I could make you do what I want and need. I could force my hand.”

“And why don’t you? It’s what I’d do, if I had your abilities.”

“That would be a waste. A waste of someone talented, to turn them into a puppet.” Inhale. Hold. Exhale. “I apologise for… that day. I was… you hit a nerve. It was important to me, and you made me feel… inadequate.”

Hux laughs. “So you did the same to me?”

“No, I didn’t need to. I found out you felt just the same, you just hid it from me rather more than I expected.”

The General whirls. “You’re still not off the hook for it.”

“Then can I make it up to you? No strings. No conditions. No… anything. I just want you to realise you’re not what they made you feel you are.”

Hux’s mouth twists over poison, over pain. “Enough.”

“You’re hurting—“

The flash in his eyes doesn’t say ‘get out’, this time, though. When he looks deeper, the message there is ‘okay’. He pulls them out of the memory, and this time Hux isn’t in agony.

He still has hold of his face, and then there’s a moment where Hux’s hand curls over his, and it just… expands to fill everything for a moment. Hux pushes Kylo’s hand down, but not forcefully, or angrily. Carefully. Measured, considered, controlled.

Kylo takes a breath, and turns his hand, his palm glancing Hux’s. A brush of fingertips together before their grip retreats. A simple promise, made and acknowledged. He lets his hand fall to his side. 

_No one ever does nice things for no reason_. 

Kylo winces. Once upon a time, he was supposed to be someone who _did_ that. Now… now he’s something else entirely, but he still remembers how it felt to offer kindness for the sake of itself. It’s not a weakness. It’s _not_.

Hux deserves it. Even if he wants to sell this to the Leader – or himself – as pragmatism, he can always lie that Hux’s approval, sense of worth, and military acumen are worth a little emotional investment and fluffing.

But he’ll know it’s something else, instead. A drive long atrophied, long choked in the Darkness of these corridors and that damned mask of his. 

_You’re worth it_ , Kylo pushes into his head, and watches Hux startle at the thought. _You are. You’re worth more than that, but we can start here_.

He watches Hux’s face scrunch tight. 

_You’re anything but useless._

_You’re wrong._

_I’ll show you._


End file.
